Pet Shop, Part 14 - Female Version

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Summary: An animal breeder is cursed to start personally giving birth to supply her pet shop with animals. Contains: Female: belly expansion, breast expansion, lactation, multiple breasts.

Previous Chapter

-

“What is it this time?” said Maggie irritably as Tom closed the door behind her. “Trying to figure out what I’m carrying again? Looking at how fat, or low, or high it is, and making predictions?”

“They’re ingrates,” said Tom lightly.

“Yeah…” said Maggie as she plopped down in her chair. She stared at her desk top, her cheeks reddening. “It’s not just that…”

“What’s wrong?” said Tom.

“I haven’t…” Maggie swallowed. “It’s been a few weeks, and I haven’t been growing. At all. I know I’m fat, but—I looked like this ages ago after the last birth. It usually happens faster. Usually I see or feel some sort of change.” She indicated her stomach.

Tom came around the desk to lean back against it, and he reached down to stroke Maggie’s mound thoughtfully. It was true that she hadn’t been growing much. Her belly was a cute one, perfect for toting around without much discomfort. She looked five, or six months along. “We really do need to get you to see a vet,” Tom mused aloud.

Maggie scoffed, “And have even more people in on this? We’ve made too many risks as it is.”

“I know you don’t like to talk about it, but we did take a loss with that last yield.”

Maggie stiffened.

“We just didn’t have the facilities to accommodate all the species’ in time. You know we were working against the clock. Things could have similarly gone sour with puppies and kittens—actually, it’s a miracle it didn’t.” Tom looked at Maggie fondly. “Much as it hurts me to say it, Dean and Amelia are right. We need to know what breeds we’re working with. Baby animals are fragile and have different needs—needs we have to be prepared for when you give birth.”

There was a lengthy silence, Maggie glaring down, her fingers gripping at her thighs. Finally, she huffed, “Do you know someone?” She looked pained. “Someone discreet?”

“It’s going to cost us,” said Tom.

“Doesn’t it always?”

-

The veterinarian reacted very much the way the others had, with shock, skepticism, fear, and a healthy dose of dementophobia. It took a subtle combination of blackmail and cash offerings to get Dr. Sturges to begin a physical exam, which started with a sonogram. Maggie laid back and determinedly studied the ceiling tiles.

Her mind wandered in her uneasiness, wandered away from the exam that was transpiring.

She thought about all the new investors and partners, and all the money coming in from the consequential funding. If this was an end to Maggie’s pregnancies, all the money would dry up. She didn’t know whether this would be a happy or sad occasion, but her contracts would dissolve, and people would be out for her head. She might even be charged with fraud and misrepresentation. Her business would devolve into the old, quaint, failing shop it had been before, and she would go out of business if her parents didn’t come and take it back first.

On the plus side she wouldn’t be a freak anymore. It was hard to tell which option she would prefer.

“A squid,” said Sturges numbly.

Maggie blinked out of her reverie. “What?”

“Well—that’s an approximation. I’ve never seen anything like it before. It’s going to take me a while to determine the exact species.” Sturges seemed fully distracted from Maggie’s bizarreness, and was now clearly fascinated by whatever creature Maggie was carrying. The vet began typing away at his tablet.

“So I’m still—fu—fuck,” Maggie croaked in astonishment. She’d had squid eggs in her last litter. Had she failed to birth one? “Is it…alive?” Maggie said, cringing.

“Oh yes! Don’t you feel it moving?”

“No. I mean I…” Sometimes Maggie’s stomach was upset, but she had ridden it off as indigestion. In fact, she had gotten so accustomed to a chronically-churning stomach, she had stopped acknowledging it as a side-effect of pregnancy. It had become her new norm.

The doctor looked up from his tablet. “I imagine you want it, er, removed?”

Maggie nodded urgently, her mortification swelling. “But I…” She didn’t know how that sort of interference would affect the—the spell. “Surgery?” she managed, oddly wishing Tom was there.

Sturges nodded, and pulled up a chair for himself. He proceeded to explain the ins and outs of C-sections as Maggie nodded and tried not to flinch at the mentions of a knife cutting into her.

They scheduled the procedure for a week from that day. Maggie went home, feeling uneasy. She was not sure how the thing had survived inside of her so long. The whole situation kind of grossed her out. She frowned and stared down at her small, firm gut.

Maggie proceeded like normal, not mentioning anything about the debacle to anyone, not even Bennett. She assured them that everything was fine, and proceeding normally, according to Sturges. She put the whole thing in the back of her mind, even as her surgery date loomed ahead. It wasn’t until her gut writhed during a meeting, that she was reminded of the fact that she was incubating a well-overdue squid thing.

Maggie groaned quietly. Around the table her shareholders stared, Tom among them. Maggie hugged her midsection and hunched down as she was assaulted by powerful bubbling pains to accompany the forceful lurching.

And then the pressure started up. It wasn’t an isolated contraction, but a slow blooming tension that warmed and filled her, until it was pressing at her flesh, squeezing and pushing, and she could actually see her belly rolling forward in her shirt.

Maggie squeezed herself tighter, as though to push her belly back in.

But it was only rising, growing larger, with all her investors gaping at her in absolute astonishment. She staggered and swayed, her vision blurring. Tom jumped to his feet and said something, but Maggie was feebly trying to wrap her blazer around herself and head for the door. She made one step forward, and felt herself beginning to fall, when Dean and Amelia burst her. Looking alarmed, they grabbed her by the arms and dragged her off. Maggie could hear Bennett back in the meeting room, saying some placating words to the other investors.

Soon after her impudent employees took hold of her, Maggie felt herself being eased down into an uncomfortably soft chair, and came to realize she was in the break room. She wheezed and pawed at herself.

Her skirt button snapped. She drew her newly tight blouse up over her tight belly, which was flushed red, and heaving. It was rising slowly, growing right before her eyes, higher, and fuller, and firmer. Her skin burned and tingled and she could hardly breathe, as she watched her abdomen push past what appeared the nine-month mark. “Gonna—burst,” she wheezed out, grunting, gasping, as she clutched at herself. She arched and groaned, her belly jutting forward. Dean and Amelia both looked terrified. “Oh— goddd.” And Maggie passed out.

-

She awoke sprawled back on a very firm bed. The industrial lights and tiled ceiling were only vaguely familiar. She was breathless, and struggled somewhat. Tom suddenly appeared beside her, and helped her shift onto her side. Maggie was acquainted with the sight of a very-large mound—her mound. It was clear through the thin sheet draped over her. Her belly was firm, tight, and larger than she had ever been with any of her previous pregnancies. She stared at it in horror and bafflement. It looked like she was ready to pop out quads, her skin still prickling as it had during the growth spurt.

Tom was rubbing her back, providing a vague comfort as Maggie’s mind reeled in threat of imploding. “It’s okay...” Tom intoned. “Everything is fine, don’t panic…”

“Tom, what the hell just happened?” Maggie hissed out breathlessly. She blinked around, and came to realize she was back in Sturges’ veterinary office. “Fuck, I’m huge,” Maggie said, aggrieved, as she tentatively laid her hand on her belly. The skin felt hot and tender from the recent abuse.

People were talking. Maggie looked around and saw that Sturges and Simon were quietly arguing on the other side of the room. Dean and Amelia were present as well, both staring at her owlishly, yet remaining a healthy distance away.

“Did you just use my first name?” Tom inquired wryly.

“Bennett…” Maggie pleaded.

“Well the, um, squid thing,” said Tom inelegantly. “It laid eggs. A lot of them.”

It took Maggie a moment to process it, and then there was a slow surge of horror. Squids weren’t unknown for laying thousands of eggs at a time.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Tom went on.

Maggie just marveled at her own form.

“Sturges thinks it’s an undiscovered species. Nothing like he’s ever seen.”

“I would agree,” said Simon as he walked over to them. “The eggs could be—important. They’re unquestionably valuable.”

Maggie still just couldn’t believe how gigantic she was. She wasn’t sure she could get up.

“We need to do an emergency surgery right now,” said Sturges, Amelia nodding in silent agreement.

“We should wait and monitor her. See if things move along on their own, as with the other specimens,” said Simon, though he looked nervous, and kept glancing at Maggie’s form.

“What if this squid lays more eggs?” said Dean uneasily. “Look at the size of her. She’ll fucking explode.”

“Dean,” Tom reproved, as Maggie grimaced and struggled to shift up to a sitting position while keeping herself covered by the thin sheet. Tom at least made use of himself, and helped.

“I appreciate your concern,” Maggie managed sarcastically, panting and flushed, now sitting up, with her large abdomen resting against her thighs. She knew her four breasts were being outlined by the sheet, with no compression to really hide their girth. Her four nipples pushed out visibly against the crisp material, and they were surprisingly tender, so much so that her breath shuddered. She hadn’t felt that since she had been nursing the puppies.

“God, this is completely outrageous,” said Sturges, shedding any appearances of professionalism. “Anyone up for a drink?” He shuffled to one of his cabinets and began to tinker with some glass bottles.

“Maggie, I really think you should, um, think about the surgery?” said Amelia, awkwardly attempting a smile, and it was truly odd to see the bubbly girl so disconcerted.

“What if surgery messes everything up?” said Tom in a reasonable voice. “She’s been giving birth naturally up to this point. And doing well at it.” His hand drifted to stroke Maggie’s gut, causing Maggie to tense, though she didn’t withdraw. The affection helped somehow.

“Just—just check her,” said Dean, sounding slightly hysterical. “See if she’s dilated or—whatever.” The boy’s face was scarlet.

“Enough,” said Maggie, whose own cheeks felt rather warm. “Just—shut up. Fucking…I’ll think on it. T—Bennett, help me up.”

The weight was truly awkward. Once standing, she felt like she might teeter over. “Fuuhhh…” she groaned, clutching the underside of her mound. The sheet slid, and there was cleavage, everyone standing around, ogling her.

“I’m fine by the way,” Maggie managed, shifting her hips as she clutched Tom’s arm and tried to get acclimated to the sudden weight on her torso. “This is nothing.” She hastily jerked on a too-small top, then allowed Tom to help her waddle away to the garage, and subsequently help ease her swollen body into the passenger’s seat of his car. They had to push it back so Maggie’s belly wouldn’t press against the dashboard.

Afterwards, Tom plopped down in the driver’s seat, looking a little breathless himself. Maggie glared at him, as if daring him to comment.

“Good?” said Tom.

Maggie sighed and leaned back, shaking her head. She lightly ran her fingers over the mound. The flushed, bloated flesh was bulging out of the shirt, which barely pulled down as far as her navel. “What a waste,” Maggie grumbled.

“How so?” said Tom, starting the car.

“’the fuck we going to do with squid eggs?”

Tom pressed his lips in thought. “A novelty item?”

Maggie scoffed, “Who the hell would want a weird squid as a pet? At best, we get arrested for illegal breeding. At worst, it’s dangerous, and kills one of us. Wait, no. I wouldn’t mind if it killed Dean.”

Tom’s lip twitched. “So what do you suggest?” He threw a long, idle gaze of Maggie’s fat mound.

“Dump them like last time.”

Tom huffed but said nothing more.

“I’ll get Amelia and Dean to do it.”

“Right then.” Tom pulled out of the parking spot.

“A serious fucking waste. We can only hope for a more logical litter next time,” said Maggie, wondering if she herself was also starting to treat her like a prized pig.

“I need a drink,” Tom noted.

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